


Scars

by Ladylauralue



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:09:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylauralue/pseuds/Ladylauralue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and Rumplestiltskin's first night in his house after the curse break. Afraid of the dark, Belle keeps talking with Rumplestiltskin, and they discover the scars they bear.</p>
<p>(Written before the revelation of how and where Rumplestiltskin got his scar)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this picture: http://trashandscraps.tumblr.com/post/39997031059/rumbelle-and-their-scars

Night had fallen, like a blanket of dark, quiet peace. Belle stood at the bottom of the staircase in the pink Victorian house that her True Love called home, one hand on the banister. She was exhausted; Rumpelstiltskin had told her that was to be expected, after everything that had happened in the day. She didn’t want to think about it, she just wanted to rest. He had a spare room he’d aired out for her, but she dreaded the idea of being alone any more. With the curse broken she could remember the 28 years in the secret asylum as though they were a long nightmare she’d had. The memories were there, clear enough to unsettle her, but hopefully would fade in time. Before that she had the years in Regina’s prison, chained to a wall, confined to a room with only a cot and regular, bland meals. She did not want to be alone any more.

“Belle,” behind her the soft, hesitant voice of her True Love broke her out of her reverie. “Is everything alright?”

“I don’t want to go up there.” She said, not knowing how to elaborate better.

A few moments of silence answered her until she heard Rumpelstiltskin breath in deep. “I understand. If you’d like for me to take you to Granny’s, I could get you a room there.” Belle turned her head to look at him. “Would you prefer that?”

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion until his misinterpretation clicked in her mind, “I don’t want to be in the dark. I know I have nothing to fear here, but I’d like to banish the dark a little longer”

Relief spread across Rumpelstiltskin’s face. “Just a moment Belle” he said and turned to walk into one of the side rooms that made up the first floor. He returned quickly enough, his arm outstretched and an object she didn’t recognize in his hands. “This is a night light. It’ll keep the dark away while you sleep.”

Gently, reverently she took the light from him, turning it carefully in her hands. “It’s lovely. How does it work?”

Coming to stand by her side Rumpelstiltskin offered her his elbow. “I’ll show you.”

Slowly the couple ascended the stairs. Belle’s eyes were on the light held in her fingers. She saw roses painted on the white ceramic and smiled to herself. She’d always liked roses, wild ones in the woods best. Next to her Rumpelstiltskin held his cane firmly in his hands, watching his footstep on the stairs, but basking in the feel of her arm through his. All too soon they reached the top and he withdrew his arm. He saw Bell cradle the light in both hands, admiring the artisanship. “This way” he said as he guided her down the upstairs hall. He opened the door and turned on the light before allowing Belle to enter first.

Belle looked around her new room, a smile of contented delight playing around the corners of her lips. It was sparsely furnished, but had touches here and here that were quaint. A large iron wrought bed was against one wall, with a plush quilt and two plump pillows atop it, an elegant night stand with a lamp lay on one side, and a small chest of drawers lay on the other. A large vanity with drawers was against the adjoining wall, and in front of the foot of the bed was a large mirrored wardrobe fashioned out of cherry wood. Reaching out, Belle laid one hand on Rumpelstiltskin’s arm. “Thank you. I love it.”

Rumpelstiltskin covered her fingers with his own hand, squeezing lightly before letting go. She dropped her hand and walked to the bed side drawers, placing the night light atop it. “Will you show me how this works?” She sat on the covers and turned to look at Rumpelstiltskin, her head tilted to the side in a silent invitation.

“It won’t work so well there.” He said as he walked over. “It goes nearer to the floor.”

“The floor? How will I see the light?” As he came to a stop in front of the drawers she picked up the light again and handed it over. Rumpelstiltskin deliberately brushed his fingertips against hers as he took the light.

“Light is stronger than the darkness. All light has to do is be, and though the darkness may not all disappear, it cannot quench the light.” His soft brogue lent an enthralling quality to his words, as did his old world style of wording.

“How does it work?” Belle asked, expecting matches, as for a candle, or wondering if he would use magic to light it.

“In this land everything is powered by electricity” his accent caressed the last word in emphasis. He turned the light around and pointed to two metal prongs pointing out of the base. “When you attach this part into a special outlet in the wall,” he turned the light back around. “You can push this switch and the light inside will glow.”

Belle watched fascinated as he walked to the one bare wall and knelt down to put the light into the wall. He pushed the switch and she thought she could see some faint light, but she wasn’t sure. “It’s such a small light, how can it hold back the night?”

“It doesn’t hold it back as well as these other lights” he said and he struggled to stand. He gestured to the light on the ceiling and in the hall. “But most people find these too bright to sleep with. This little light will help you remember that it isn’t always dark, and it’s never dark forever. Morning will come, and the day will break the night.”

Belle smiled as he ended his explanation, wrapped up in the lull of his voice. This wasn’t the impish voice he’d had in their home world, accompanied by maniacal giggling and flamboyant gestures. This was a softer voice, with a gentler cadence and smoother, smaller movements. Silence settled over the room, but Belle didn’t find it uncomfortable. She found it peaceful. It was broken by Rumpelstiltskin clearing his voice and turning to leave “I’ll…I’ll leave you to your room then,” he said as he reached the door.

“Wait, please?” Belle asked, a little forlornly. “Just a little longer? I don’t want to be alone just yet.”

“You should get your rest, Belle. I’ve p- You’ve been through quite a lot today. Sleep will help.” He had one hand on his cane and the other on the door knob.

“You could stay…” Belle all but whispered.

Rumpelstiltskin stopped still, unwavering as he took in the words she said. “You could stay with me.” She repeated.

“Are you sure Belle?” he inquired, wanting to give her a chance to change her mind. When she nodded, when he saw the small smile on her face he bowed his head quickly in assent. “Do you need anything? Before you-we-before you fall sleep?”

“Come here already” Belle sighed with forced, false exasperation, her smiling warming the sentiment of her words. The hands she held out to him reached for his jacket lapels, tugging at them gently. He complied immediately, shrugging the garment off and draping it over the foot board. His eyes followed her hands as she tugged on the tie about his neck, loosening it and letting the silk hiss against cotton as she pulled it off. There was something enthralling about how methodically she moved. He watched dazedly as she pulled the shirt out from his waistband, finally snapping out of his stupor when she had undone the third button.

“Wait a bit, we should get a night shirt for you.” He closed his hands around her wrists and pushed them away, halting the unbuttoning progress.

“Any shirt will do, wont it?” She looked up into his eyes and grinned with a cheekiness that belied the tension he felt. She moved started unbuttoning again, sliding the shirt off with the same ease as the jacket before. When it was off she stood up, coming so close to him he could smell her hair and feel her body heat against his exposed chest. She sidestepped him and turned, pulling her hair up to expose a lovely expanse of neck and her dress zipper. “If you could, this is a tricky thing.”

Rumpelstiltskin complied, thinking to avert his eyes as he drew the zipper down, but not wholeheartedly. When it reached the bottom Belle stepped away, sliding the sleeves of the dress down and pulling the shirt on swiftly. She hesitated a few seconds as she did up the buttons of the shirt before shimmied out of the dress.  Stepping out of the pool of fabric at her ankles, she kicked away the dress as one of her heels snagged on the cloth. “Oh, drat. I hope I didn’t ruin it!” she cried as she sat back against the bed and lifted one foot to her knee to undo the little buckle at her ankle.

At first he was staring because he simply couldn’t take his eyes off Belle, but he noticed the uneven, marred skin above the straps. Unthinkingly he knelt to the ground, ignoring the stiffness and sudden sharp pain of his knee as he pushed her hands out of the way. “What happened to you?” he choked out, shock mingling with rage. He knew this kind of scar, the kind one fought hopeless against manacles to receive. His hand wrapped gently around her ankle and his thumb rubbed the harsh white mark gently as he tore his eyes away and looked up into Belle’s.

Belle carded her fingers through his hair trying to sooth the worry and anger she saw. “I was locked up very well,” she said with a forced laugh. “Some days it became too much to bear. I’d fight the chains just for something to do.” She couldn’t tell him of the anger she’d give into on those days. Rage and hopelessness and frustration would consume her until the bite of the metal or the slick, sticky drip of blood shook her out of it. She stopped running her fingers through her hair and rested on hand on his shoulder, willing him to accept her forgiveness before he asked for it.

Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head down. Shame washed the worry and rage away. “I am so sorry Belle. I didn’t know, but I should have.” He spoke the words low, bitterly, angry at himself for pushing her away the first time, for believing the lie and not uncovering the truth. “I didn’t know”

Her fingers ruffled his hair in an attempt at reassurance. “It’s healed now. Wounds do that, did you know?” She couldn’t muster the tone of voice to go with the teasing words, but he let her finish undoing the buckle on one ankle, and then the other. “Let’s finish getting ready, shall we?”

Nodding and pushing himself up with his cane, Rumpelstiltskin stepped back a pace. Belle sat farther back on the bed and averted her eyes, blushing as she heard him walk to the other side of the bed before undoing his own buckle and pulling off his trousers. She felt him sink hard into the bed as he tumbled back a bit and she turned quickly, climbing over to his side to make sure he was alright.

“I’m fine, Belle,” he said as she reached his side, one hand again at his shoulder. “Just an old war wound.” The bitter mirth he laced the words with made Belle look down and she couldn’t withhold the gasp of horror when she saw the twisted scars around his knee that ran down to mid-calf and up his thigh. She scrambled off the bed and knelt at his feet, maidenly modesty abandoned in lover’s concern. She reached out, almost touching the warped flesh before looking up. Azure eyes met rich brown, unspoken questions and answers fluttered between them before Rumpelstiltskin reached down to bring her hand the remaining distance to his knee.

“What did this?” she asked. “What could do this to a man in battle?”

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes in shame, turning his face from Belle’s. “These are one of the prices I’ve had to pay for my cowardice.” Silence hung as the words sank in, Belle’s eyes widening in horror when she understood.

“You were punished because you did not fight.” The statement held no judgment, only measures of understanding. “Made an example of because you left and survived when others stayed and died.”

Silently he nodded, his hair covering his features, hiding his guilt. He gasped softly when he felt her fingers trace the slashes along his leg. They sat there in silence as she ran her finger along every mark, Rumpelstiltskin breathing shallowly as she continued her ministrations. When she finished she leaned her head forward, resting it gently above his knee. “We all bear scars. Every single one of us. Sometimes they show, sometimes they’re inside. But we can let them make us stronger.” She rocked back onto her toes and stood up smoothly, her regal heritage showing in her bearing in spite of the lack of dress she had.

Awestruck by her forgiveness, her understanding and her beauty Rumpelstiltskin did not speak, but met her eyes as he drew her hand forward to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. She tightened her grip as she pulled her hand, not away, but trying to get him to stand. She held their clasped hands in between them as she wrapped the other around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head in gratitude, breathing in the scent of her hair, basking in the heat of her skin, grateful beyond words, gestures and humbled by his own emotions.

When they slept that night, she kept her eyes on the light until she fell asleep, his arm around her an anchor in the darkness that kept her from drifting into nightmares and unpleasant memories. He chased away the bad dreams that crept in with soft kisses against her forehead and temples, and whispered endearments of love, and stories of the worlds he’d known.


End file.
